Dare
by CathiCath
Summary: We sometimes got some shady looking characters in our little town. Truckers, a biker gang now and then, but those two were a different category. Their composures were confident and I had no doubt that they could more than hold their own in a fight and had done so more than once. Despite their confidence, they looked a little- not quite nervous - but shifty. -Oneshot


This is just a little something that popped in my head. Let me know what you think!

 **Disclaimer:** I wish. But I guess we all know what the show would look like if some of us actually got their hands on it! Might be a good thing...

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‚What the fuck am I doing? This is madness!' I thought as I reluctantly made my way to the bar. 'What the hell do I even care what they think of me? Friends like that are stupid. Wouldn't need to do that...'  
I threw a quick unsure glance over my shoulder back to the group of girls and boys sitting in the corner. All of them were watching me, grinning, one of them putting their thumbs up. Very funny.

Flashback to about twenty minutes ago: We were sitting in the corner, drinking, laughing, playing truth or dare (such a stupid game. What were we doing playing that anyways? We're not even teenagers anymore!) when the door of the bar opened and two men came in. All of our eyes were immediately pinned on them.

They were tall, the one towering over everyone else. Both had broad shoulders, plaid shirts tightening over their muscles that made it easy to imagine the power they had in them. The expressions on their faces though were even more intimidating than their build. Even in the dim light of the lamps you could see scars on their necks, one on the chin of the smaller man. They seemed to scan the room as soon as they entered, the motion probably so familiar to them that they didn't think about it. Their faces a little grim, their eyes were still clear and focused.  
The taller one with neck long brown hair wore a small frown above his eyebrows. When they made their way to the bar, our eyes following them, the leather jacket of the smaller one rode up a little bit and in the back of his jeans, clearly, the outline of a gun was visible.

Our whole group had fallen silent and we were now looking at each other surprised. We sometimes got some shady looking characters in our little town. Truckers, a biker gang now and then, but those two were a different category. Their composures were confident and I had no doubt that they could more than hold their own in a fight and had done so more than once. Despite their confidence, they looked a little- not quite nervous - but shifty. And while they clearly sent off a dangerous vibe, they were also ruggedly handsome.  
The next minutes the conversation was all about those guys. Who where they, where did they come from, what did they do... The overall consensus was that it wasn't anything legal. Killing was also a big component in their discussion. After that, it shifted to the girls being torn between going on about their good looks and the unsettling feeling they got from them. I was mostly silent (but couldn't deny either one option) and settled with watching them order.  
The smaller, short and blonde haired man downed a second shot of whiskey right after the first, whereas the other one only held onto a beer while obviously vehemently trying to bring his point across, one hand gesturing wildly.

"It's your turn." I turned my head back to the group. "What?", I asked, not having been paying attention. "Truth or dare?" "What, we're still playing that?" The others just looked at me. "Well, duh!", their expressions said.  
I sighed. "Fine. Truth." "You can't choose truth everytime!", my opposite complained. "Well why do you even ask me if I can't choose?"  
"Don't be a pussy!", one of the boys said. I rolled my eyes at him, annoyed. "Alright, dare!" I looked him straight in the eye. It took them only seconds to decide. "You have to go over and ask to buy one of them a drink."  
Taken aback, I was silent for a moment. I didn't have to ask who they meant. "Are you kidding me? Come on", I then said.  
"You can even choose which one!", they said, amused at their idea, probably convinced I wouldn't do it.  
"Fine!", I answered, suddenly angry, planning on proving them wrong. I got up and slowly made my way to the counter. That is where I was now.

I took a deep breath. It wasn't that big of a deal. What would be the worst that could happen? They would look at me as if I was crazy, tell me no and I would be done with it.  
However, I felt more ridiculous with every step I took. Seeing them closer, it was easier to estimate their age. They had to be over thirty, what was I, just turned twenty-three, doing, asking them for a drink? They would laugh at me!  
Completely enveloped in my thoughts I hadn't noticed that I already stood in front of them. Luckily, they hadn't seen me yet.  
'Alright, if I'm gonna do this, I may as well be doing it right!' I encouraged myself and took a closer look. Seeing them from afar, the taller one had looked scarier, but now up close, I could make out that his features were softer than those of the other one. He also seemed to be the younger one of the two, which would work in my favour.  
After another deep breath, I took the last step forward and spoke up.

"Excuse me?" Stopping their conversation, they looked up at me, questioning. I was silent for a moment, not having been prepared for the intense green eyes of the short haired man. Then I found my voice again and turned to the other one.  
"Could I buy you a drink?", I asked, forcing a smile, hoping my voice wasn't sounding like the anxiety I felt inside. His expression changed from confused to surprised, blinking a few times, eyebrows raised.  
"Erm... I...", he started when the one behind me chimed in.  
"Sure you can!" He was grinning. " 'bout time for him to loosen up a little!"  
"I mean, if he doesn't want to, it's fine", I said, nervousness returned. I had done what I had to, if he said no I could just go back and forget this awkward encounter.  
"Oh, no", the taller one stopped me. "You can, sure." He got up, making his seat free for me and taking the one to his left, leaving me in the middle of the two men. "I'm Sam, by the way."

Ok, fine. So we were actually doing this. I told him my name and threw a short glance at my friends, seeing them watching me with incredulous expressions on their faces. It filled me with satisfaction and encouraged me to play this a little longer.  
I sat down. "What do you drink? Another beer?", I asked Sam. Before he could answer, the other one interrupted again. "Buy him a shot, he can use a little fun once in a while, right Sammy?"I turned back to Sam who was rolling his eyes. "Fine, yeah. A whiskey will do, if you match me." He winked. Oh damn it. He actually had dimples when he was grinning like that. It made him look a lot younger and a lot more boyish.  
"Sure i will!", I tried to sound confident. I told the bartender our order and then clinked glasses together with Sam before downing the whiskey. I had never been good at doing shots but today I miraculously managed to not cough like crazy afterwards and make more of an idiot of myself than I already had.

"So, how old are you?", Sam asked me. "Twenty-seven", I lied without thinking. If he was over thirty as I suspected he would surely be put off that someone that much younger than him would buy him a drink. "You look younger", he said, not seeming convinced. "Yeah, I get that a lot", I murmured, not looking at him but my glass in my hand. "So, what about you?"  
"I'm thirty-one", he answered. So I had been right. "And what do you do for a living?", I asked him. I figured I might as well satisfy my curiosity while I was here. Sam exchanged a quick look with the other one over my shoulder and then shrugged and said: "Oh, nothing special. This and that, little things. Dean and I travel a lot."  
I was pretty sure that that was not even the beginning of the truth but didn't press further. He hadn't called me out on my lie about my age. At least now I knew the name of the other mystery man, even if the vagueness of his answer didn't help my nervousness all that much.

"So", came from behind me, "are you a student or what?"  
"Kinda, you know, I do these small things here and there." I winked and Dean showed a little smirk. From this close I could see that there were little freckles all over his nose and cheeks, highlighting the green in his eyes. "Fair enough".  
His glance moved from my eyes over my shoulder to the back of the bar. "Your friends over there look like we're all gonna sprout wings any second."  
I followed his look to the group on the corner. They were still watching us, wide eyes and looking as if they were caught in a horror flick.

"Well", I turned back to the guys "you do look very intimidating."  
"We do?", Sam asked, apparently really not having thought about this before.  
"Have you looked at yourself? The height, the scars, and, oh right, the gun in your pocket might also contribute." I pointed at Dean.  
"Hm", he made, looking down at himself. "Right." He grinned a little. "Are _you_ scared of us?"

I looked down. I was, a little, but I kept quiet, leaving them to figure it out on their own. Didn't have to confirm it to Dean, he already looked way too smug.

"So what are the theories?", Sam asked.  
"Well, my friends had a few. The most common ones? One of them is that you are serial killers and will murder everyone in this bar once you finish your drinks. The other one is that you're bank robbers on flight. I don't like that one, you have way more style."  
"Now listen to that, Sammy", Dean chuckled. "I told you. So what's your theory?"  
"I don't know..." I hesitated. Dean suddenly became more serious. "Do _you_ think we kill people?"

I looked at him more closely. The scars and the gun in his jeans indicated 'yes'. While he didn't look old, there were wrinkles on his face, like a little permanent frown edged into his features. But where I might have expected his eyes to be distant, cold, they were far from that. They were full of emotions, all whirling together like a green sea. While he held himself confident, cocky even, there was something akin to self-hatred in them. Also worry, angst, and love. So much love.

"Yes", I finally answered. "But not because you wanted it. I think you're good people. More like soldiers than serial killers. You have that look... like you've seen and done some shit."  
It was quiet for a long moment. Then Sam said, taking a swig from his beer: "Seems like you have us all figured out."

"Alright, but now tell me, what made you come over here? If y'all thought we're so scary?", Dean asked, smile returned.  
"Oh, just... nothing really..."  
"Come on, tell me. No more lies!"  
I snorted. "You're one to talk!" I grinned. "Fine, whatever. It was a dare", I gave in.  
Dean looked shocked. "Seriously? And here I thought you were just that interested in us." He chuckled. "So your friends made you come here on a dare while thinking we're serial killers?"  
"They're not particularly good friends", I responded. "I mean, I'm not that good with people, so I take what I can get. I left my good friend back at home when I moved here", I explained.  
"You don't seem like a socially awkward person to me", Sam said, making me turn around to him. "Well then I guess you're lucky to have met me on a good day", I laughed nervously.  
"Alright." Dean got serious again. "You don't really seem to like your 'friends' all that much, and they don't really seem to care much about you, if they sent you over here-" "Dean!", Sam interrupted scolding but Dean was right. I knew they weren't really my friends.  
"So, you wanna give them a little show? Give'em a little scare?" He winked cheekily.  
"Erm, sure", I said. "How?"  
"Come here for a sec." I looked at him. Where? I was already sitting right next to him. He just pointed to the floor in front of his seat, so I got up and in front of him.  
"Closer", he beckoned me and parted his legs.  
"Really?", I asked him disbelievingly. His expression mostly remained serious but for a mischievous twinkle in his eye.  
"Just do it and wait a minute."

I sighed and gave in, stepping between his legs. "Perfect." He laid a hand on my waist and then spoke to Sam.  
"Get here so you hear what I wanna say." "Dean,-" Sam started but was interrupted. "Come on, have a little fun once in a while!"  
That seemed to be a recurring theme between them. I wondered what they were to each other. They were definitely close.

Sam sighed and then stepped forward, closer to me until I could feel the heat of his body against my back. He rested one hand on my shoulder and then I realised what this must look like; Sam behind me, towering over me, cornering me into the closeness with Dean whose expression was something between serious and grim, the touch on my shoulder a seemingly threatening gesture. However, their touch was reassuring and up close I could see the upturned corner of Dean's mouth.  
I grinned before Dean leaned forward, put his cheek against mine and whispered in my ear, his breath tickling me.

"And now you try to look a little more scared and less excited, ok sweetheart?"

"I'm not excited", I protested.

Actually, his sudden closeness rather wiped every rational thought from my mind and left me nervous and a little shaky on the legs. I was probably doing a good job right now at portraying the uncertain, overwhelmed and scared little girl. "So what now?", I asked, a little out of breath.  
"Now", Dean said, speaking up so Sam could hear him too, "you're gonna say goodbye to your friends and leave with us. We will look very menacing and you a little scared, and they won't know what to do. And outside you can do what you want."

I nearly didn't need any time to think about it. "I can totally get on board with that plan", I said turning around to Sam. "You?"  
"Sure", he answered, that boyish little smile on his face again.  
"Awesome!" Dean said, pulling out a few dollar bills and slamming them on the counter, then hopping of his chair. I noticed too late that that meant even less space for me, so his body pressed against mine before I could move. "Well hello there", he said, looking down at me, his eyes glinting. I could feel a blush creeping up and looked away.  
"Okay, perfect. Let's go."

He put one hand between my shoulder blades and pushed me forward, Sam stepping out of the way. I lifted my eyes to my companions in the corner. They were all watching us, confused expressions on their faces as we stopped in front of them. Dean trailed his hand up from my back to my shoulder, pulling me noticeably in his direction. Across from us, it was quiet.

"She is leaving with us", Dean stated, his voice becoming authoritative, leaving no room for discussion. The people in the seats stared up at him, wide-eyed and silent. "Come on", Dean said to me, grabbing my arm a little harder and turning to go.  
"Wait, but-" One of the girls spoke up and came to her feet.  
"Do you have something to object?" Dean said softly, looking directly in her eyes. The girl sunk back in her seat, obviously wishing she hadn't said anything. "Good", Dean then declared, turned me around and pushed me a little harder in direction of the door. The group didn't do anything but glare and sitting with open mouths, apparently intimidated.

Sam was waiting by the exit, maintaining a scowl that must have been the most evil he could manage in this situation (let me tell you, he wasn't any good at that. However, I had no doubt that he could get really scary.).  
Dean pulled the door open and stepped outside, letting me and Sam follow and then turned around to us. As soon as the door fell shut, the thirty-something, dangerous man was completely gone, leaving a seven-year old in his place. He was grinning from ear to ear, his whole demeanor changed.

"Oh god, that was awesome! Did you see their faces? Like we're gonna gank her and leave her in a gutter!" He was full on laughing by now, with his hands gesturing through the air.

A grin spread across my face. It _had_ been awesome, and seeing this grown man, tall, trained and rugged looking as he was, doubling over with giggles was even more infectious. I joined in with his laughing and soon we were spurring each other on, Sam chuckling and shaking his head watching us.

Finally Dean calmed down a little, tumbling towards me and leaning on my shoulder. "Ahh thank you for that. I needed that!", he said, smiling warmly. "Well, thank _you_ , this was the most fun I had in a long time", I responded. Sam also pulled me in a short hug, nodding along.

"So, what are you gonna do now?", I asked them.  
"Well, I guess we're gonna head out, finding the nearest motel for the night. We have a long drive tomorrow", Sam responded.  
"So, now that we've had such a good laugh together, are you gonna tell me what you really do?", I tried cheekily.  
"You gonna tell us your real age?" Sam returned.  
"Twenty-three. I thought if you knew how much younger I was you would never agree to a drink."  
"Nahh, it's not that much younger." Dean winked and Sam laughed. "Nice try, Dean!"

Dean only shrugged.

"So?", I asked again.  
"You wouldn't believe us", Sam answered.  
"Try me." They exchanged another glance, Dean shaking his head nearly undetectable.

"Nah", Sam said then, "we wouldn't wanna shatter the impression you have of us." He winked.

"But here", he pulled out a little piece of paper and scribbled something on it, "is my number. If anything comes up, anything strange, or anything at all, give us a call, no matter how you think it sounds."  
"Alright", I said slowly, a little confused, and took it from him. 'Sam and Dean Winchester' it said on it, underneath that numbers. So they were brothers. Or married, but I highly doubted that with the way Dean had been all flirty. Another piece of information.

"Okay then, I guess we gotta go", Dean finally said. He pulled me in a tight hug, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Take care, and choose your friends a little better!"

After he had stepped away, Sam also embraced me before smiling at me and then turning to go. I watched them walk across the car park and stopping at a black, classy looking car. They got in, waving once more goodbye as they shut the doors and rolled down the windows. Classic rock blared through the speakers as soon as Dean pulled out of the parking spot, turned the car around and with a roaring engine sped out into the night.

That would be quite a story to tell, I thought to myself as I watched the headlights fade away in the dark.

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(If you find any mistakes, let me know! English isn't my first language and I always want to get better!)


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